Time for your weekly edition of the Deadspin Funbag. Find more of Drew's stuff at KSK or on Twitter. Email the Funbag here. Today, we're covering drunken baseball players, keyless car entry, and more.

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I had to go an '80s-themed party with my wife on Saturday night. And I have no clue how they do this, but women always seem to have outfits for themed parties ready on their person at all times. "Oh, there's an '80s party? Let me just grab my oversized Esprit T-shirt, leg warmers, and hair crimper! I saved all of those items 20 years ago just in case this moment presented itself."

I have no themed garb at the ready. I'd be angry at myself if I ever did. Oh, you're having a hippie theme party? Well, fuck you, because I don't have bell bottoms and I'm not heading to a goddamn thrift show to buy some when I know I'll only get one night out of them.

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Your letters:

Dave:

If there is no NFL season next year, what would the draft order be for the 2012 NFL Draft? Does Carolina just get to pick #1 again? At first, I thought that could be fine because they would rape themselves with the amount of money on two consecutive #1 picks. But if there is a rookie salary scale, fuck that noise. Do they do it randomly? I don't want some cunts like the Patriots or Cowboys getting the #1 pick.

Christ, I dunno. A simple Google search turns up nothing. Remember: If you get drafted and you don't sign with the team that drafted you, you get to enter the draft the next year. So with that in mind, wouldn't that then negate the ENTIRE 2011 draft if the season were to be canceled? Wouldn't all those players need to be drafted again? Wouldn't that, in essence, make the 2012 Draft a DOUBLE draft? And wouldn't that be kind of fucking awesome? Fifty million people would watch that draft. They should make that draft 14 rounds. You couldn't change the draft order then, because Carolina would finally have a chance to draft Andrew Luck and Jerry Richardson would throw immigrant babies out of his mansion window if you tried to screw his team out of that pick. And then Cam Newton would fall to the third round and everyone would point at him and laugh. I kind of want to cancel the 2011 season now just to see that happen.

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I wanted a better answer to this question, so I went to Mike Florio, who answered a similar question last week for the Sporting News. Florio says:

No one knows what the NFL would do, and it depends on plenty of factors — including whether there will even be a draft in 2012. Assuming there's no season and assuming there's a draft in 2012, the league would have to come up with something fair to all teams. Merely using the 2011 order again would probably not be fair. When the NHL lost a full season to a lockout, the next draft was determined by a weighted lottery based on various factors including team finish in each of the three prior seasons. The good news, if it's possible to have any after losing an entire football season, would be that the league could decide to use a draft lottery of some sort beyond 2012, since the made-for-TV event probably would generate higher ratings than a regular-season baseball, a postseason basketball game, and Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals combined.

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Andrew:

On average, how many baseball players are hung over during day games?

Depends on the day, of course. There would almost certainly be more hungover players on a Saturday than there would be on a Tuesday (though if I were a baseball player, I'd never keep track of what day of the week it was. Why would it matter?). And the city would probably factor in as well. You're probably more likely to go out and get shitfaced if your team is spending the night in Manhattan over, say, Arlington. Then again, what else is there to do in Arlington besides get drunk and make skid marks in the parking lot with your pickup truck? Drinking is a great equalizer like that.

The other thing that matters is your standing with the team. If you're a starter pitcher and you know you aren't starting that day, doesn't that give you free reign to drink like a fish? You definitely not playing. And if you're just some asshole benchwarmer, you also have little incentive to stay in the night before. There are 750 players in Major League Baseball. On a random Saturday with every team playing, I'd wager that around 100-200 guys have a hangover that day. LEGIT 100-200.

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I remember reading an interview with Shaq a year or so ago in SI, and he was talking about winning the NBA title with Miami, and he confessed that he went out drinking virtually every night during that title run. And I remember thinking when I read that, "Thank fucking God." Like, thank God being an athlete today can still be fun, you know? It would spoil my daydreams if I knew every goddamn athlete out there had to live like a Mormon during the season to excel on the field. That would be a shitty, rotten existence, one I would be far less likely to live vicariously through.

Mercutio:

When I lived in DC, I always felt a little uneasy driving past those brown "Government Employees Only" exit signs on the highway. What would happen if, by some act of exceptional retardation, I ended up taking one of those off ramps by accident? Now, odds are that a security guard would just look at me snidely and turn me around, but what if I stumbled on some sort of top secret military base? What would happen? A one-way ticket to Guantanamo Bay? An offer to become a secret agent and spend the rest of my life fighting international crime with an entourage of beautiful, deadly, and eager-to-bang women? Would there be aliens? I could never pass one of those without pondering these possibilities.

I used to commute to Virginia every day, and the highway I drove in on had a special off ramp for buses (I think it took the buses directly to a bus stop at the Metro station). And the highway always got crowded and I'd have to will myself to NOT take that special buses-only exit. It's just so incredibly tempting to drive somewhere you aren't supposed to drive. Like the shoulder. I spend every traffic jam staring wistfully at the shoulder, wondering why I don't have the balls to just peel out and go speeding along the shoulder like an entitled prick who thinks the cops can't touch him. Then someone DOES drive by on the shoulder (always a BMW) and I'm half pissed off at him (What an asshole!) and half envious (I wish I had his conviction!). All this from a traffic jam. I should probably invest in satellite radio or something.

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Gator:

Please settle a debate I have been having with about a dozen friends for about 3 years now - what would you rather have: a handjob, or 5 dollars? The handjob can be by the gender of your choice, but is in otherwise average in every way. There's also no making out, boobage, etc. Who ya got?

But is it a hugely attractive person giving me the hanj (and doing it in the Hypothetical Single Drew Universe)? Are they talking dirty to me while they're performing it? Is lubricant involved? If this is a relatively ordinary handjob, but it comes from the likes of Brooklyn Decker, I'm taking the handjob. And here's the reason: Maybe the handjob is ordinary and not anywhere near as good as what I could do myself. But my memory can FIX that. My memory can twist that handjob and distort it and do all kinds of great things with it. Just one sexual encounter has any number of versatile applications in a man's spank bank. It's like how the French can make 800 recipes using stale bread. Even a failed sexual encounter has later masturbatory use. Your memory can improve that handjob into something far more valuable. So you take that lousy penis mangling. It's worth the beer money.

Carnivore:

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In college, my roommates acquired possibly the most disturbing porn (not involving murder, rape or stumps) I've ever seen: The Return of the Meatman. I don't know where the Meatman was or why he left there but I really wish he hadn't "returned". Scenes included, but were not limited to: hotdog insertion, liver as lube, slim-jim spankings and anal on an ENTIRE GODDAMN SIDE OF BEEF. We offered any newcomers to our apartment the chance to watch to prove manhood - we even made up "I Survived the Meatman" shirts as souvenirs.

Did they throw out the side of beef after they did anal on it? Or was that side of beef cooked and served to order? Because that's the really disturbing part of this whole enterprise. Tony Bourdain would be LIVID. You should have a little more respect for the cow than that. The cow is already being fattened up and then led to slaughter. But then if you say to the cow, "Listen cow, we're gonna kill you and then have very dirty anal sex on half of your corpse and then either throw it out or serve it to unsuspecting customers," well then that cow has every right to be angry.

Once again, the porn industry has completely dropped the ball when it comes to fetishizing. A proper food/sex porn hybrid would feature gorgeous naked women pouring roast beef jus all over themselves. It would far more tasteful in the hands of a real food lover. You can't just desecrate a porterhouse like that.

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Also, while we have the attention of the nation's porn exporters, please make more sweater dress porn. Or make it easier to find.

HALFTIME!

Jesus Quintana:

I still find it smugly enjoyable to remotely lock a car in a parking lot, even with a shitty car. It's obviously no longer the domain of pastel madras-clad rich assholes pulling golf clubs out of their trunks and flipping their hand up in the air as they secure their asshole BMW. Everyone with a crappy Toyota Corolla can do it these days. But still, it FEELS like you're that rich asshole, doesn't it? It makes the loud noise and the lights blink and everyone around you knows that your car is now impenetrable with one click of that magic rich person's key. It's so satisfying, until I realize that anyone looking is probably wondering why I'm bothering to lock my shitty car when just about every other car in the lot is more grand theft-worthy.

The flipside of that would be my car, which is 15 years old and has a locking remote that only works occasionally. So many times, I'll walk away from my car and try to lock it, only to fail. Then I have to stop, turn around, point the remote at the car, and then walk closer and closer to the car until it finally locks. And the closer I get to the car, the more I feel like a complete idiot. Everyone can see me trying to lock my car and failing. I bet that Acura driver down the lot is having a mighty chuckle. WELL FUCK YOU, BUDDY. I DO THE BEST WITH WHAT I HAVE.

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By the way, the best feeling is when you remotely lock the car with your keys hidden in your pocket. It's 57 percent more futurey that way. WHO MADE THAT CAR BEEP? WAS IT YOU? You'll never tell a soul!

Chris:

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Would you sign a 10 year, $10 million contract to be the Commissioner of the WNBA? Part of the job is to attend 4 games per week. In the offseason, you would have to constantly do speaking engagements at events celebrating female athletes. Also, you have to make out with Doris Burke twice a month.

Fuck and yes, I would. Who would turn down $10 million and 10 years of guaranteed employment? An asshole. That's who. Plus you could have all the luxury suite food and drink you like. And the season is relatively short, so you'd barely have to lift a finger. Sign my ass up. If you ever meet someone who does NOT have $10 million and turns down that gig, you shove a car key up their ass. I mentioned this here, but if I were a women's basketball player, I'd be pretty goddamn livid that people spent so much time telling me how useless my sport is. If I ran the WNBA, the first thing I'd do it change the league's slogan to GO FUCK YOURSELF. Then I'd run ads on nothing but SpikeTV, and buy huge clusters of banner ads at the new Simmons website. And every TV ad would be scored to groups of drunken women squealing out the lyrics to "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." Just to piss people off.

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Fritz:

My father has been complaining of shoulder pain on and off for the last 5 or 6 years. He just recently decided to ask the doctor about it. Turns out he has a torn rotator cuff in both shoulders. If he does need to have surgery, should he get both shoulders repaired in the same session or should he space two separate surgeries out so he at least has one good arm/hand to work with?

If he gets both shoulders repaired at the same time he won't be able to feed himself or do much of anything that requires hands for a few days. If he has two separate sessions, he will have to recover from the anesthesia, narcotics, and general pain of surgery twice and have to suffer through shoulder pain in the non-repaired shoulder that much longer (he will be using that shoulder even more which would result in more pain). Other factors to take into consideration include: missing work (he is in his mid 40s and his job requires a bit of physical labor), he should be able to at least use his hands and forearms after a couple of days of recovery, and the dangers of not having arms/hands to catch himself in case of a fall or other accident.

Also, my mother has made it clear to my father that she will not be the one wiping his ass if he gets both shoulders done at once.

Well, the honorary doctorate I received from Colby wasn't actually a doctorate degree and was, in fact, just a daydream I had when I was drunk and staring at my bedroom lamp for too long. So I have no medical background to give you a proper answer to this question. That said: Separate surgeries. Wouldn't you avoid going a few days without the use of both hands if you could? I would, regardless of the circumstances. Plus, two surgeries means twice the morphine, twice the prescription painkillers, and twice the people being really nice to you because you just had surgery. That's one of the great things about having surgery. Loved ones bend over backwards to help you. They drive you around. They pick up the meds from the store for you. They help you put on your shoes. Everyone instantly becomes your voluntary servant. It's a delight. I'm gonna go try and pick up a cinder block now just so I can experience it again. I YEARN TO BE PAMPERED.

Anthony:

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What do you think of the Confession App? Would you use it? Would using it actually absolve me of my sins?

Well, I have no use for it, since I'm not Catholic and don't actually believe any of that stuff. But when I was a kid, I always wanted to go to confessional. I saw it in movies all the time, and I badly wanted to use that booth. I dreamed of using it not to confess things, but to ask the priest why the chick I loved in eighth grade didn't love me back, and how I could win her heart. Now, this is a totally useless thing to ask a priest because they're all gay pederasts, but I didn't know that at the time. I just thought the confessional scenes in movies were cool, especially whenever someone ended up murdered in the booth. Half of all confessional booth scenes in movies end in murder.

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I remember my folks dragging me to church for Christmas one year and I was like, "Hey, where's the confessional?" And my mom was like, "They only have those in Catholic churches." And I thought that was fucking weak. I thought every church should have had one, so that you always had ready access to free therapy. I still think other religions should steal the idea. The confession is one of the few high points in the Catholic religion's brochure. If you steal it, they barely have any competitive edge. They'd be crushed.

And other religions should have popes as well. Evangelicals should erect their own Vatican in Illinois, find some crazy asshole to wear an expensive robe and pointy hat, give him a fancy new name, and make him their pontiff. What would the Catholic pope be able to do about it? NOTHING. He'd have to just sit there and take it in the ass. TAKE IT IN THE POPE CHUTE, BENEDICT.

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Eric:

What could be greater than combining one of the most delicious candies with a, er, 'vintage' automobile? The 'King Size' is what really makes it.

Only in the south.

NASCAR is really letting me down with this "Car of Tomorrow" bullshit.

Clark:

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Why does it seem every job application has a section where you have to list your "major" under the High School Education section? Filling out that part of an application is fucking agonizing. What a waste of energy it is to write "N/A" or "general" or whatever other fucking bland word I can think of so these assholes will understand I didn't have a major in high school. Where are these elitist prick high schools where students choose majors?

It's a fair question, because I went to a dipshit prep school and I don't recall ever having a high school major. I don't think anyone would begrudge you for leaving it blank.

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The other thing I hate on job applications is where they ask you to fill out your employment history and then leave pages upon pages of space for you to fill it out, like it's a fucking bluebook exam. First of all, if I didn't have a long work history, I'd be pissed that the application assumed I held sixty previous jobs. Secondly, if I did have a lengthy resume, I sure as hell don't want to sit there for nine years recounting every job I ever had. Blow me. And do you really expect me to remember the address of the Little Caesar's I worked at back in 1995? Or my boss's phone number? Here's a resume. I'm not filling out SHIT.

/dream job candidate material

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Jeff:

When in the shower, do you wash your legs with soap? Isn't it enough to wash your torso/crotch and let the soap residue drip down over your legs?

A) Your legs are hidden by pants
B) Your legs don't usually sweat or smell
C) It's a waste of time/soap
D) Every time I try to wash my feet in the shower, I almost slip and horribly fall

Should I be washing better or teach my kids to do not as I do?

No, I'm as bad as you are. The only time I really wash my shins is if I know they have visible dirt on them, like after a game of touch football or something. I usually wash the tops of my legs, but that's because they're easy to reach and because it's part of the whole "vigorously washing your balls to the point of mild arousal" routine. I'm sure I should be more vigilant about washing my legs. But come on. They're all the way down there. I'd have to bend and stuff. That seems strenuous. Couldn't a small Greek child be flown in to scrub the area for me?

As for my feet, they're going to get nice and clean from the massive amount of urine I'm about to deposit on the shower floor. That urine is sterile. IT'S NATURE'S DISINFECTANT! I totally read that somewhere.

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NJ:

If I were the guy with the "Glass Handle With Care" tape, I would make sure it always went on the boxes like this.

I concur.

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Richard:

I live in a neighborhood with tons of huge trees and my yard alone has 6 of them. This caused me to be woken up just about every morning by freaking squirrels running up and down my roof. After a few months telling my wife I was going to set out traps, poison them, or just find some way to make them dead I finally went out and purchased a box of subsonic .22 ammo. The combination of subsonic ammo, using an old bolt action .22, and shooting from inside my house makes the sound of the gunfire just barely above that of a clap. My original goal was to just shoot a few and hopefully the noise went away, but after 3 months I have literally killed 49 squirrels and they still wake me up about once a week. Am I justified in continuing with my quest to silence the squirrels?

What is your roof made of? Discarded steel drums? Seems like some sort of insulation under the roof would probably do more to solve the problem than killing all those squirrels. Not that I'm against squirrel death. I just watched the Bourdain Ozarks episode and I'll be damned if that squirrel pot pie didn't look mildly inviting. Or you could cut down the trees that give the squirrels such easy access to the roof. Dan Snyder can probably give you then name of a good tree service. Remind me to buy subsonic .22 ammo, whatever that is. It sounds like a blast. I'm gonna start drinking and shooting at crap from my bedroom window.

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Two emails of the week this week. The first is from Whoopsie…

Whoopsie:

My 4 year old went to bed the other night at his normal time and fell asleep. About an hour later, he woke up crying inconsolably. I had no idea what was wrong with him and he was crying so hard he wouldn't answer me. So now I'm trying to figure out what the problem is, only right after he went to bed I smoked some pot. When he fell asleep I figured I had the green light to relax a little. Only now he's woken up crying and my mind is racing and I'm high as a kite. I was in panic mode times 10.

I was convinced my kid wasn't going to survive the night. Fucking BRUTAL.

Indeed. And now we go from pot to mushrooms…

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Denny:

I took mushrooms last night and decided to write mid-trip—here's what I wrote, verbatim as found on my desktop this morning: